


Hymns

by mind_and_malady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Behaviors, Fluff, M/M, Singing, Worship, first posted samifer fic woohoo, i finally updated this with sam/lucifer's perspective, they're in the bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_and_malady/pseuds/mind_and_malady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The music surprises Castiel, when he hears it."</p><p>Lucifer is singing, and everyone can hear it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is, really. I found it half-finished in my Samifer drafts, finished it up, polished it, and now I'm leaving it to you. Have fun with the weird speech patterns, guys.

The music surprises Castiel, when he hears it. The song itself is familiar, though he doubts it has ever been sung on Earth before. It’s more the fact that he is hearing it at all is what’s surprising, and he has to stand in absolute stillness for a full three minutes, frozen in front of the kitchen sink, while he absorbs it.

The music is beautiful, uplifting; a melody of peace and trust and love, such an abundance of _love._ It needs no instruments to accompany it, for they would only obscure the rapturous noise that was flowing from the singer’s throat. In Heaven, the sound would be indescribable, sung in waves of Grace and light and crackling power. But here on Earth, it shifts, changes into something audible to the living creatures of the world. It sounds the way it feels to feel a cool sea breeze in high summer, snowfall on Christmas day, a family gathered together and laughing, warm hands clasped together, a lover’s kiss to say _good morning._ It crafts itself into the air and into the hearts of those who hear it, sinks through the walls and concrete and invades a demon with helpless awe.

Songs such as these have only ever been sung in Heaven, and only ever in places where war had not touched, places where the presence of God could still be felt, even though they were but a shadow unto His passing. In these places, angels would sing their praises, songs of their love for Him. To sing them in places beyond those was criticized; to sing them on Earth was blasphemous. And yet, someone sang, with a voice so clear and musical and _pure_ that Castiel just wanted to sit and bask in it for hours. It had been too long since he had heard music like this. Far, far too long.

He doesn’t realize he’s fallen to his knees on the floor until Dean is crouching in front of him, surprised wonder in his eyes. “Cas?” Dean asks worriedly, hand gripping his left shoulder tightly. “You alright, buddy?”

“I’m fine, Dean,” Castiel answers, voice lower than usual.

Dean helps him to his feet, and doesn’t let go of his arm. “What’s the singing, Cas?” he asks.

Castiel tries to explain. “It’s a hymn, of sorts. This one is sung almost exclusively in the presence of God, or places where He stood. It isn’t the _real_ song, of course – bound to vessels as we are, our capabilities for singing as such is severely limited – but it’s still close enough to be nearly blasphemous. Lucifer shouldn’t be singing here – he probably shouldn’t be singing _ever_.”

Dean looks bewildered. “Then why is he?” His hands are shaking a little bit, a manifestation of the way his soul is trembling under the sound of Lucifer’s song.

Castiel swallows. “For Sam. Your brother is as close to Heaven as he is allowed.”

Dean doesn’t have anything to say to that, can only turn his eyes towards Sam’s room in the bunker with amazement. The song continues for a few more minutes, pure and bright and holy and _beautiful_ , before it fades away. A moment later, gentle laughter stems from down the hallway, and a few more notes are sung before being abruptly cut off, followed by more laughter.

Dean’s hand tightens on Castiel’s arm, bunching the tan fabric of the trench coat in his fist, before tugging lightly. “C’mon, Cas.”

Castiel follows Dean out of the bunker, and as the door shuts behind them, he can feel a few stray notes humming through the air, pieces of a song, a prayer, the sound of true praise. Lucifer would never lower himself to sing for their Father, would never swallow his pride further than those hurts. But Sam, whom Lucifer had loved since before he was born, Sam deserved to hear him, deserved his praise and his glory and his love. He would only ever sing for Sam, who deserved more than just semi-happy memories to serve as the afterlife, who deserved every ounce of glory the Host had ever possessed. Only for Sam would he bow and gladly sing his praise.

Only _ever_ for Sam.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at long last, you get Sam and Lucifer's perspective  
> at long fucking last

Sam tumbles out of a quick post-dinner shower to find Lucifer lounging on his bed. It’s a common view, and if Sam’s being honest, it’s a damn nice one too. Lucifer has a habit of stealing Sam’s clothes, so more often than not, Sam will come in at night and find Lucifer in shirts that are too big and sweatpants that threaten to trip the otherwise graceful angel.

Like he said. It’s a damn nice view. And Lucifer knows it too, always smirking at Sam when he stops in the doorway to just _watch_.

Tonight, though, something is different, and Sam accepts that his day is not yet over as soon as he sees Lucifer perching on the end of their bed, still fully dressed. He’s holding a book - a hymnal, Sam realizes. An old one, dusty and cracking around the spine. It had probably been in the bunker for decades, untouched. Lucifer is thumbing through it, frowning, like something about is deeply unsatisfying to him.

Sam leans against the doorframe. “Hey,” he calls out, just loud enough to garner attention. Lucifer startles slightly, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Sam,” he says fondly, smiling easily. Sam can see the distraction in his eyes, though. He’s not entirely focused, mentally occupied by something. Sam glances down at the hymnal as he shuts the door, and Lucifer looks down on it. His brow furrows, mouth tightening into an unhappy line. His thumb taps a staccato beat against the page he has open, and then the book snaps shut.

Lucifer lets the old book drop to the floor carelessly as Sam comes to sit beside him. Sam glances down at it again, but says nothing, just reaches out and twines his fingers with Lucifer’s. Lucifer sighs, leans against Sam’s side. Sam’s just about to ask him what’s bothering him, and then he nearly chokes on his own tongue.

Lucifer is _singing_. If it can be called that. Honestly, Sam doesn’t know what this is, but it’s hitting him with all the force of a truck and none of the pain. It is, in fact, leaving him trapped in utter euphoria. It’s love and praise in their rawest, holiest forms. It doesn’t sound like something that should be sung on Earth, shouldn’t even be allowed in Heaven. It’s too _pure_ for that. He’s overwhelmed, shaking and practically crushing Lucifer’s hand in his grip, eyes slipping shut and head bowing to press against Lucifer’s hair.

The air is warm and electric and alive with the song. It’s like Lucifer is cradling Sam in something far larger than he can imagine, the boundless love of angels given form; like he’s saying _This is how I love you,_  and it’s driving Sam to tears.

He doesn’t know when Lucifer stops singing, but he figures it out once Lucifer starts stroking his hair and murmuring his name. “Sam?” Lucifer calls to him, and Sam shudders, reaches blindly to wrap his arms around Lucifer. “I’m sorry, I thought - I just wanted to -”

Sam kisses him. It tastes like tears and light and Lucifer laughs into his mouth, understanding moving between them like a living thing. Sam blinks his eyes open just in time to see Lucifer’s mouth open as he starts to sing again. He doesn’t let him get out more than a few notes before letting himself fall forward a few more inches and crushing the noise back into Lucifer’s mouth, earning yet more laughter and a grin so wide that the kiss falls apart.

“Thank you,” Sam breathes, the words hard and real, almost brutally grateful for whatever he’s just experienced.

The joy on Lucifer’s face somehow manages to grow further. He reaches up, cradles Sam’s face in his palms and lets their foreheads rest together, and laughs as he says, “No, Sam. Thank _you_.”


End file.
